


Sickness

by IcyPheonix



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Sick Character, decisionshipping - Freeform, mizadoru, zexal month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPheonix/pseuds/IcyPheonix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Decisionshipping/MizaDoru</p><p>Prompt: Support/Weak</p><p>In which Durbe cares for an ill Mizael</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickness

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally never written these two, or this ship before. So this was a challenge in more ways then one. 
> 
> Edited a slightly.

Durbe knew it was going to be a bad day when Mizael came downstairs for breakfast, face flushed and swaddled in a duvet.

“How bad is it?” asked Durbe as Mizael sat down.

“101.”

He winced, it was that bad. Yeah this was going to be a bad day. “Go lie down, I’ll bring you something.”

Mizael didn’t have the energy to argue and, still holding the blanket around himself made his way to the living room. Durbe sighed as he turned the kettle on and grabbed tea from the cupboard, there went any plans he’d had for the day, there was no way he could leave Mizael alone like this.

Mizael was curled up on the couch when Durbe finally came in, tea in hand. He really did look bad, now that Durbe had a look at him, and he wondered how he’d found the energy to get out of bed.

Setting the cup of tea down, he reached a hand out and pressed the back of it to Mizael’s forehead.

“Are you sure it’s only 101?” he asked. “You’re burning up.”

Mizael mumbled and nodded weakly.

“Well, try to rest and take it easy.”

The next time Durbe came to check on him, Mizael had fallen asleep, and looking for all the world like he was wrapped in a cocoon.

‘ _I hope you feel better soon,_ ’ thought Durbe, absent-mindedly brushing a strand of hair from Mizael’s face as he slept. For once keeping him contained was going to be easy, usually Mizael’s stubbornness refused to allow him to remain in bed even when sick. He would insist he was fine.

 

“Mizael, Mizael!”

Mizael’s eyes fluttered open weakly and his head spun. Everything felt fuzzy and distant, even the voice calling to him. “Dur-be?”

“Ah, thank goodness, you worried me for a moment.” Durbe’s face came into view and Mizael realized he was holding him. Why was Durbe holding him? And why was he on the floor?

“What…?” He tried to sit up, to move, but Durbe held him back.

“You collapsed. I heard it from the kitchen.”

Shifting his arms about, Durbe slipped them under Mizael and lifted him up, one arm under his lgs the other around his shoulders. He’d been in the kitchen when he’d heard the thump and ran to living room to find Mizael passed out on the floor, half tangled in the blanket. He hadn’t even known Mizael had woken up, let alone tried to walk anywhere.

“What are you…doing?” asked Mizael; head slumping against Durbe’s chest as he walked.

“Taking you to bed.”

“Buy me a drink first.”

Durbe sputtered and almost dropped him, that was not the response he’d expected. As he carried him back to his room, he made a mental note to remember that Mizael’s filters came off when he was delirious.

He laid the sickly dragon tamer on the bed and carefully wrapped him back up in the blankets. Hopefully this time he would stay put.

“You just rest,” he said as he stood up. Durbe turned to leave, but stopped when Mizael grabbed his sleeve. “Mizael?”

He gripped Durbe’s sleeve tightly, refusing to let him move any farther. His chest heaved with each breath, face flushed red. Mizael trembled, but kept hold of Durbe as he lay there. “I’m sorry,” he panted, voice barely above a whisper.

Durbe frowned, why was he apologizing? He was sick; he had nothing to apologize for.

“Jinlon…sorry.”

Oh, so he had to be dreaming. Durbe sat down beside the bed, as it was clear that he wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a while.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” said Durbe, shifting his hand to slip it into Mizael’s. “It wasn’t your fault. You know he forgives you.” He silently wondered how long Mizael had been having these dreams, and why he hadn't said anything.

At some point, Durbe slipped off to sleep, hand still in Mizael’s.

 

“Durbe, why are you holding my hand?” asked Mizael, tilting his head to look over at Durbe. When he finally woke up, feeling considerably less overheated and dizzy than before, he noticed that Durbe was holding his hand.

“You were having a nightmare,” he replied, using his other hand to rub sleep from his eyes.

“I see. And you thought it best to hold my hand?”

Durbe looked down at their joined hands and mumbled an apology as an embarrassed blush coloured his cheeks.

“I don’t mind,” said Mizael after a moment, curling his fingers around Durbe’s hand so he couldn’t pull away.

“Are you feeling any better?” asked Durbe.

Mizael glanced up at him and a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “I’m better now.”


End file.
